


A Bond Not Seen for a Thousand Years

by LawrVert



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Asexual Relationship, Fluff, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Dyad (Star Wars), Hurt/Comfort, Jedi Masters/Jedi Dads, Light Angst, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:14:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27489412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LawrVert/pseuds/LawrVert
Summary: Obi-Wan saves Qui-Gon at the Battle of Naboo, risking his own life in the process. Although he is ready to advance to knighthood, Obi-Wan isn't ready for the deepening Force Bond between he and Qui-Gon to be severed. Attachments are forbidden, but separation could have dire consequences for both men.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 70
Collections: Fandom Trumps Hate 2020





	A Bond Not Seen for a Thousand Years

**Author's Note:**

  * For [treescape](https://archiveofourown.org/users/treescape/gifts).



> This was written for the lovely treescape. I hope you enjoy this (Basically a Force dyad --cough cough--soulmates AU with lots of fluff and hurt comfort). Thank you to my partner and beta, eriathalia

The moment he reached Qui-Gon Jinn’s motionless body, Obi-Wan knew it was too late to save his master. The lightsaber had passed through his abdomen and back, damaging vital organs and severing his spine. With every ragged breath, the young Jedi could feel his Master’s life force growing dimmer, the tightly woven threads of their bond fraying, their connection moments away from being severed forever. Tears spilled from his eyes and fell onto Qui-Gon’s cheek as he lifted the dying man’s head and shoulders and cradled his master in his lap. There were so many things he wanted to tell him. Obi-Wan longed to thank him for his training, tell him how much he admired him, and something else he couldn’t yet admit even now at the end, something new and fragile that quickened his pulse and caused his gut to twist.

All he could do now was hold him and sob into the front of his robes as the once strong man’s pulse grew weak and his strong limbs grew limp. Obi-wan could see the approaching darkness in the sad, faraway expression in his eyes and the small quirk of his lips as if he had already entered the netherworld of the force and glimpsed the mysteries of the other side. For a moment, his master’s eyes focused on Obi-Wan once more and his hand reached up to caress his cheek. “Obi-Wan….you must train the boy. He is the chosen one,” he whispered in a voice hoarse with pain and exhaustion. 

“Master, don’t try to speak,” Obi-wan choked out, pressing his forehead against his master’s in a childish gesture as if he could keep his master alive by his will alone. 

Qui-Gon's eyes grew distant again and his breath slowed. For a moment, Obi-Wan feared he was taking his final breaths. Then, his golden-brown eyes met Obi-Wan’s and he spoke once more, a plea. “Promise me you will train the boy, Obi-Wan.” 

After a long moment, Obi-Wan replied, “I promise.” There was a certain bitterness in his heart at this boy stealing his master’s last words and thoughts, and that pain was worse than any battle wound. 

Once Obi-Wan had agreed, Qui-Gon smiled once more, his expression tranquil. Obi-Wan knew he had to act fast. What he was attempting was dangerous, the most difficult trial he had ever faced. Healing required the healer to give of their own precious lifeforce. It would be so easy to tip the delicate balance, to go too far and sacrifice not just a bit of energy but his life. Obi-Wan decided in that moment that he didn’t particularly want to live without Qui-Gon. 

Placing one hand over his master’s wound and stretching out with the force, he concentrated on the muscles and sinews, the organs and bones, then deeper to the cells and the midichlorians within them. Tendrils of the force, bright filaments of his own life energy, worked to knit together the damaged tissues and restore his master’s broken body. Obi-Wan grew light-headed half-way through, but he willed himself to keep working. 

When he opened his eyes, his master was breathing more regularly, and Obi-Wan could feel his master’s strong heartbeat within his own chest as if they shared the same heart. There was still so much damage to heal, and Obi-Wan felt the first pangs of nausea, a signal he was close to giving too much of himself. He was drowsy now, an almost pleasant dullness settling over his mind like the night Qui-Gon allowed him to sip Corellian ale for the first time in a dingy bar in Coruscant’s underbelly. In a distant corner of his mind, just before the darkness enveloped him, he heard Qui-Gon’s voice calling out to him, “Obi-Wan! Stop!.” 

* * *

  
Qui-Gon stared down at his apprentice, worry creasing his brow. For three days, he hadn’t left his side, even when the healers said he was young and strong and would most likely make a full recovery. Qui-Gon had prepared himself to die. In fact, rather than fear, he had felt sadness at being so close to becoming one with the ethereal beauty of the force then being torn away from it and thrust back into his all-too-human body. Thanks to Obi-Wan’s gift, he felt physically stronger than he had in years, every ache and pain gone. 

His hand reached out, pushed a lock of sweat-dampened ginger hair from Obi-Wan’s brow and tugged the thin hospital blanket up over his shoulders. His heart swelled with pride. Even most of the experienced Jedi healers had never healed such serious wounds. Several of them had remarked that perhaps this was a sign he was meant for a healer’s path rather than that of a warrior. One thing was certain--whatever path he chose, his apprentice would do incredible things. 

Soon, Obi-Wan would be leaving him. They would stand together before the council or perhaps alone in the gardens, and Qui-Gon would cut his Jedi braid, symbolizing the end of his training and their time together. At his age and after such a serious injury, Qui-Gon suspected he would be given a safe posting at the temple for at least a few months. He would certainly no longer be free to roam the galaxy as an explorer and diplomat. Even though the thoughts were traitorous at best, a part of him considered leaving the order, becoming one of those lost Jedi that fell not to the dark side but to the allure of the outside world. 

Reaching out tentatively with the force, he brushed against Obi-Wan’s consciousness and felt him begin to stir, blue eyes slowly opening under long lashes. 

“Master?” Obi-Wan tried to move and sank back down to the pillow, that small movement sending pain lancing through his skull. 

“Don’t try to get up yet. You were unconscious when the medics arrived. You almost went too far.” Qui-Gon rested a hand on his shoulder, soothing his headache with what little energy he could spare. 

Obi-Wan sat up a bit straighter then wretched over the side of the bed. 

It took him a few moments to catch his breath, and when he finally spoke, voice rough and raspy from the acid burning his throat, he whispered,

“I had to save you. You were dying.” 

Qui-Gon was there in a heartbeat, cleaning him up with a cool cloth, repositioning him on the bed, and rubbing his back. “What if you failed? You could have died too.” 

“I had to take that chance. I seem to remember you telling me that sometimes the cause most worth fighting for is a lost cause.” Obi-Wan coughed and sipped water from a cup Qui-Gon held to his lips. 

Smiling warmly, Qui-Gon teased, “So you were paying attention.” 

“What about the boy--Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked, feeling a jealousy creep into his thoughts. 

“The council is still deliberating, but the odds are good they will allow him to be trained. He’s waiting outside to visit you if you’re feeling up to it. He’s asked about you every day.” 

“Alright,” Obi-Wan nodded, letting go of his negative emotions. None of this was the child’s fault.

Qui-Gon stepped outside for a moment, and when he returned, Obi-Wan suddenly found his breath stolen from him by two small arms hugging him tightly. “Obi-Wan! You’re ok!” 

“Careful, Anakin. He’s still recovering,” Qui-Gon chuckled, smiling at the way the boy already seemed to be bonding with him despite Obi-Wan’s reservations. 

“Oh, sorry.” Anakin let him go and stepped back. “I made you something so you wouldn’t get bored in the hospital.” Anakin reached into a pocket and pulled out an odd tangle of wires and rivets forged into a series of rings. 

“Thank you. What--what is it?” Obi-Wan puzzled over the object, turning it over in his palm. “The kids on Tatooine used to build these. You try to stack the rings without knocking them off the post. It’s harder than it looks.” There was a long silence where Anakin fidgeted and thrust his hands into his pocket as he looked up at Obi-Wan expectantly with wide blue eyes. “Do you like it?” 

Obi-Wan felt the last of the bitterness in his heart ebbing away. “I like it very much. It looks pretty complicated though. I might need you to teach me how to do this.” 

Anakin brightened and immediately started gesturing wildly as he explained the mechanics of the game. Qui-Gon watched from the corner fondly, ready to rescue Obi-Wan if Anakin should make him too tired. Obi-Wan’s eyes were growing heavy, and the metal game nearly fell from his hand. Feeling Obi-Wan’s exhaustion through their bond, Qui-Gon gently suggested to Anakin that there were some wonderful books on Deep space navigation in the library and ushered him along. 

Just as he turned to leave, Obi-Wan’s hand caught his arm. “Master--could you stay until I fall asleep?” The moment he babbled the childish request, shame tinted his cheeks a deep pink.

With a quirk of his brow and a gentle smile, Qui-Gon stretched and sat back down, reaching out to take his apprentice’s hand. “Of course.” 

Drowsy and still weak, Obi-Wan let his shields crumble allowing Qui-Gon to see the depth of his exhaustion. Qui-Gon sent him an answering wave of gratitude and placed one of his large, warm hands on his forehead to gift him with a peaceful sleep and hopefully keep the nightmares at bay. Just before he fell asleep, Obi-Wan felt it, fragile and brief--an unmistakable feeling of love wrapping around him like the warmest woolen blanket. 

* * *

The next morning, Obi-Wan would dismiss what he’d felt as a fever dream. Love was a forbidden emotion for Jedi, and attachments were signs of weakness. Surely it was just wishful thinking that Qui-Gon could love him. At least the healers said he could continue his convalescence at home, walk in the temple gardens and meditate until he was strong enough to start intensive training again. 

Splashing water on his still pale face, he straightened his robes and made his way to the gardens where he sensed his master waiting in quiet reflection under the shade of a Corellian willow tree near one of the larger ponds. It was one of Qui-Gon’s favorite spots, and Obi-Wan remembered fondly how he had spent many days as a Padawan stretching out his fledgling senses to learn everything he could about the fish and other aquatic creatures. Qui-Gon’s presence was as warm as the sunbeams streaming through the transparisteel windows. His master didn’t stir at all as Obi-Wan approached, but he knew by the small quirk of his master’s lips that Qui-Gon had already sensed his presence. Obi-Wan sat down across from him, assuming the same cross-legged position of peaceful meditation, content to wait until Qui-Gon was ready to acknowledge him. 

After a few moments, warm brown eyes opened and met his gaze with fondness and gentle humor. “It’s good to see you up and about, Obi-Wan.” 

“I don’t do well sitting around like an invalid, Master. You know that.” Obi-wan listened to the birdsong and the softer sounds of the fish jumping. 

“Enjoy the respite. It isn’t very long before you’ll be needed for missions.” There was a sadness in Qui-Gon’s eyes. 

“Missions? Does that mean--am I to face the trials after all?” Obi-Wan sat up, then flinched as the sudden movement caused a wave of vertigo. 

“The council has decided your actions though reckless were extraordinary. The New Republic wants to give you a commendation for your actions at the Battle of Naboo. In rare cases, the council will allow Padawans to advance to knighthood without undergoing the trials, and they’ve decided to make that exception for you.” 

“So I am a Jedi knight then?” Obi-Wan grinned, wishing he could jump up and run laps around the temple or embrace his master. 

“You are. Only one thing remains.” He reached out and leaned forward until his hand closed gently around Obi-Wan’s Padawan braid, his thumb tracing its length. Obi-Wan's eyes closed at the touch. Forcing himself to bury his emotions and focus on the solemnity of the moment, he sat still as Qui-Gon took a small knife from his pocket and carefully cut the braid. 

“There.” Qui-Gon regarded the severed braid before closing his hand around it. “Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight of the Republic.” Although his Master smiled proudly, the smile didn’t seem to reach his eyes, and Obi-Wan could sense conflict in his heart. 

“Master? Do I have to leave our quarters right away?” Obi-Wan felt his stomach twist at the idea of empty quarters in a small, bare room where the other Jedi knights were housed. 

“No, Obi-Wan. Not until your recovery is complete. I’ve spoken to the council and they have granted you one more night to get ready for the move. 

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and willed himself to be calm. He was a knight now, and it wouldn’t do for him to start blubbering in the middle of the gardens. 

“I think we should get you back home so you can rest,” Qui-Gon said, perhaps sensing his disquietude and saving his pride. 

Obi-Wan leaned heavily on his master on the way to their quarters, though the walk from the gardens was only a small exertion. Qui-Gon seemed content to lend his warmth and strength.

When they reached their quarters, Obi-Wan excused himself to freshen up, but quickly found himself struggling with the simple task of getting out of his robes. He leaned against the sink and slipped down to the floor, reluctant to show so much weakness before his master. 

Qui-Gon sensed Obi-Wan’s distress and was at his side in an instant. He lifted him easily. “Obi-Wan--will you allow me to help?” 

“I don’t want you to see me like this.” Obi-Wan’s cheeks burned. 

“Then I promise not to look,” Qui-Gon chuckled. “Please, let me help you.” 

Helping him out of his robes with gentle care, Qui-Gon was true to his word and kept his eyes on Obi-Wan’s face which had shifted from pink to crimson. 

“Let’s get you into the refresher then I’ll leave you to it.” Qui-Gon filled the tub and made sure the temperature was perfect even adding some sweet smelling herbs to the water to help ease sore muscles. 

Qui-Gon helped him into the tub then turned to leave. "I'll be just outside if you need anything." 

"Wait--Master. Would you stay?" He drew his knees up to his chest. 

"If you wish me to," Qui-Gon smiled kindly and knelt beside the tub. "I could wash your hair for you." 

Obi-Wan didn’t want to admit that even lifting his arms felt too difficult right now, but he knew Qui-Gon could sense it, and he felt his concern through their deepening bond. 

Reaching out, Qui-Gon poured soap into his hands and began to wash his former apprentice’s short-cropped ginger hair. Obi-Wan noticed that as he thought about how much he liked the feeling of the large hands massaging his scalp, Qui-Gon’s hands seemed to respond to his thoughts, fingers kneading his forehead and temples and moving down his neck to loosen the muscles that were tight as transparisteel girders.   
  
“It isn’t weakness to accept help.” Obi-Wan opened his eyes for a moment, stunned that Qui-Gon had heard his unspoken thoughts, and would have felt the sting of soap had Qui-Gon not intervened and stopped the shampoo from trickling into his eyes. The voice spoke directly in his mind. “Close your eyes for a moment and I’ll rinse it off.” 

Once he had done as he was bidden, the young Jedi gave him a quiet and rather shy mental answer. “Thank you for helping me. I don’t mean to be so much trouble.” 

“You’re never trouble, Obi-Wan. Not for a second.” Obi-Wan felt Qui-Gon’s hand sluicing water from his head and felt utterly drowsy and content. Once he got past the feeling of embarrassment, it was actually quite relaxing. Casual touch wasn’t encouraged by the Jedi, at least not to show affection. There were handshakes at diplomatic conferences, healing touches for the sick and injured, and the rough jostling of bodies during combat training, but never loving touches. These gestures tended to foster development of attachments which could make it impossible for Jedi to be truly selfless. More than that, a Jedi with attachments had something to lose, something to mourn. 

Obi-Wan sensed regret in his master’s thoughts, though he was not privy to the source as Qui-Gon raised his mental shields. “Now, shall I wash your back?” 

Obi-Wan nodded and leaned forward as the warm cloth glided over his skin bringing a feeling of intense comfort with every pass. He found himself getting sleepy, even drifting off until his master’s warm chuckle woke him. “I think it’s time we get you to bed.” 

Holding out a towel, Qui-Gon allowed him to wrap it around his waist before helping him out of the bath and leading him to his bed. Once he was settled, Qui-Gon turned to leave until his apprentice called him back.

“Master?” Obi-Wan sat up, frowning.

“Yes, pad--Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon returned to his side. 

“It was an honor being your padawan." 

Qui-Gon turned and regarded him quietly with an melancholy expression. "We'll see each other again in the temple."

Obi-Wan watched him leave, knowing nothing would ever be the same again. As he tossed and turned that night, the young Jedi stretched out, searching for Qui-Gon. His old master had left his quarters to meditate or walk the halls of the temple as he had done so many nights. The jedi might be in the observatory, starlight reflected in his eyes or wandering the temple gardens, the night blooming vines releasing a sweet perfume that clung to his robes. 

Reaching out, Obi-Wan felt a sudden warmth as if he stood beside a roaring bonfire. The tendrils of a consciousness brushed tentatively against his own as if fingers reached out, just shy of grasping his hand. A soft rumbling chuckle filled his mind. "You can’t sleep either?" 

"No. I didn't mean to--" Obi-Wan faltered, waiting for a rebuke that never came. 

"You’re growing stronger every day, but you must learn to forget our bond. You're a Jedi knight now."

"And if I can't?" Obi-Wan sat up in bed, senses straining to restore contact as Qui-Gon broke off their connection suddenly leaving him alone and cold. 

When he stretched out again, almost desperately, he sensed other beings, but his master’s mind was closed to him. And it would remain closed until the Council sent Obi-Wan on his first mission. 

* * *

A blaster bolt whizzed by Obi-Wan's head as he dived underneath a battle tank, plunging his lightsaber into its underbelly. With a screech and a loud clanking sound, it fell on its side as helpless as a tortoise flipped on its back. Sweat trickled down his brow and stung his eyes, mingling with blood from small cuts. 

He barely evaded an attack from the left as four battle druids circled him. "Surrender, Jedi!" 

Obi-Wan shut off his lightsaber and held out his arms with a grin causing the lead battle droid to look at the others and ask,"Did he just surrender?" 

With a force-propelled jump, Obi-Wan launched himself into the air and landed in the branches of one of Felucia’s towering trees, blaster fire blazing below him. The surge of adrenaline made him numb to the searing pain in his side until he sank down against the trunk feeling dizzy and weak. When he pressed his hand to his side, he felt wetness and looked down to see blood seeping through his torn tunic. The wound was large, but it didn't enter his abdomen. Another dizzy spell almost caused him to black out. Even before his injury, Obi-wan had been having strange headaches and episodes of weakness in training sessions for a few weeks. It wasn’t the sort of thing a young Jedi complained about, and he assumed it was only because he'd been pushing himself too hard. 

Reaching for his belt pouch, Obi-wan searched for bandages and remedies. He only needed to clean the wound and stop the bleeding long enough to gather enough strength to use his healing skills. He lifted his shirt with shaking fingers and sprayed an antiseptic, wincing as it bubbled and stung. 

Biting his lip to stifle any cries of pain, he drew a calming breath and pressed a hemostatic pad to the wound for a few moments. He cursed himself for being seconds too slow. Something was affecting his powers, his reflexes, his connection to the Force. Dragging himself to a safer branch concealed by preternaturally large ferns, he lifted the pad, relieved that the wound was only seeping now. If he wasn’t hemorrhaging, then why was he still weak and light-headed. He sat up wearily and took a cleansing breath, directing his focus inward, seeking out the damaged tissues and attempting to draw the needed energy from the Force to repair the damage. Slowly, he felt his cells starting to renew, the nerves, veins, and muscles beginning to heal. Then, suddenly, the healing stopped. 

No! Something was wrong! Obi-Wan was overcome by a wave of nausea, then bright spots dancing in front of his eyes and a terrible pounding at his temples. Just before darkness closed in around him, he called out--Qui Gon!

Qui-Gon sat in a strategy meeting with other more seasoned Jedi and stared at the star charts. Despite his attempts to calm himself, there was a lingering ache in his bones, a lightheadedness that made it difficult for him to focus. Suddenly, he sensed it, a plea for help. The voice was distant and weak, the words accompanied by a rush of--love, and then a faint Goodbye. 

Obi-Wan was injured, maybe dying. Hastily excusing himself, Qui-Gon ran to seek Master Yoda’s council. As he waited to join the wise Jedi in his meditation chamber, he remembered climbing up onto the chair as a boy of two or three. Master Yoda had looked almost large to him then. A faint smile tugged at his lips at the memory. 

“In, come in you must, Master Qui-Gon. Dwell on the past too much, you do. In the present you must be--anchored, focused.” The old Jedi chuckled warmly and gestured to a chair as he himself hopped onto a soft cushion and sat in a lotus position. 

“Good morning, Master Yoda.” Qui-Gon inclined his head, fondness in his warm brown eyes. 

“Troubled you are. Unusual this is.” Yoda steepled his fingers and regarded him with concern. 

“Have there been any concerning reports from Felucia?” Qui-Gon skirted the topic at first, not wanting to violate temple protocols, knowing that attachment to former padawans was forbidden. 

“Concerned you are for your former apprentice, yes?” Yoda raised an eyebrow. 

“I felt something today. A disturbance in the force. I think Obi-Wan may be injured or even dying.” Qui-Gon tried to maintain a dispassionate tone, though he could sense traitorous emotions creeping into his voice. 

Yoda’s brow wrinkled. “A talented young Jedi he is. What makes you so certain he is in danger?” 

“He called to me. I could feel his pain. Perhaps if I could lead a rescue mission to Felucia--” Qui Gon’s request was interrupted by Yoda shaking his head and holding up a hand. 

“Meditate on this I must.” Yoda got up and began to pace, leaning on his walking stick. 

“If we delay, Obi-Wan will die.” Qui-Gon fought down a surge of anger, and drew a calming breath. 

Yoda turned around, surprise on his features. “You still harbor feelings for your padawan.” 

“Of course I care about Obi-Wan. He has the potential to be a truly great Jedi and a noble heart.” Qui-Gon’s mental shields kicked in a moment too late. He could tell from the minute change in expression that Yoda already knew. 

“Be wary of your feelings,Qui-Gon or your undoing they could be. Forbidden attachments are.” Yoda looked out the window, closed his eyes for a long moment while Qui-Gon remained silent then opened his eyes and nodded. “A rescue mission we will send.” 

“Thank you, Master Yoda.” Inclining his head, Qui-Gon stood to leave. 

“When he returns, keep a distance from Obi-Wan you must. If you do not, expelled you could be.” 

Qui-Gon nodded, though a deep sadness filled him. “I will, Master Yoda.” 

When he returned to his quarters, Qui-Gon sat meditating, searching the stars for any sign of Obi-Wan. If he wasn’t allowed to see him, then at least he could try to help him another way. 

* * *

  
Obi-Wan first became conscious of something cool and wet hitting his face. When he opened his eyes, a hazy green blur finally came into sharp focus, and he found himself lying under the leaf of a large fern. Reaching up weakly, he grasped it and tipped it down, cool water flowing into his open mouth and soothing the ache in his throat. His wound throbbed and he knew that without a medic or healer, infection could only be delayed for so long. The sun was low in the sky now, a fiery red orb, and soon it would be night. The battle droids had long ago abandoned their search, perhaps the only mercy. 

A prized plant, nysillin grew in the jungles of Felucia. Perhaps if he could muster the strength, he could find enough to make a poultice for his wound. If he lasted that long. Opening his medkit again, he changed the bandage on his wound, wincing as he wrapped it tightly to provide as much support as he could. 

Getting down the tree was difficult at best. Ability to use the Force weakened, Obi-Wan was unable to do more than soften his landing on branches and keep himself from plummeting headfirst onto the ground when he faltered. When he finally reached the forest floor, it was nearly dark, the Felcucian sky a deep cloudless indigo, sounds of nightbirds and forest creatures surrounding him. He felt something like a tugging on his sleeve, a distant presence in his mind reaching out across the stars to him. “Remember, padawan. Even in the darkest of times, there is light.” 

“Master Qui-Gon!” Obi-Wan’s heart raced as he tried to hold that presence in his mind before it could leave him alone and cold. 

There was a gentle reprimand in the words, concern, and--love. Shh. Save your strength. Can you show me where you are?” 

Obi-Wan tried to communicate, but in his inexperience, he could only show his old master fragments. Trees. Separatist Base. Tall, green and red flowers. Night. 

You should be resting. Qui-Gon scolded him but only a little. 

Obi-Wan ignited his lightsaber, searching the ground. I need to find nycillin for my wound. 

Look for the plant at the base of the green flowers. I can’t hold the connection anymore--

Suddenly, Obi-Wan was alone again, his mind silent as a tomb as he darkness grew deeper. Then, he saw faint flickers in the darkness that made him grasp the hilt of his lightsaber tighter in preparation for an attack. Two, then three, four, then a dozen Felucian fireflies flashed in the distance, something insistent in their signals, as if they meant for him to follow them. He walked behind them, their lights warm, a comforting beacon. The lights gathered around one of the towering green flowers causing Obi-Wan to blink in confusion until he saw the small yellow-flowered plant growing at the base. Moving as quickly as his condition allowed, he approached and knelt by the plant, plucking several of the flowers and crushing them in his palm. 

With great effort, he lifted his shirt and rubbed the flowers on the wound then rested under the over of the towering green-leafed flower staring up at the stars . How many times had he walked with his master under those stars on many different worlds? Together, they had learned their names long before his classes in stellar cartography because Obi-Wan had been curious. Too tired to move, Obi-Wan closed his eyes and fell asleep where he sat, the lights of the Felucian fireflies warding off danger while he slept. 

Qui-Gon gripped the edge of the cushion until his knuckles turned white as he fought a wave of nausea. Obi-Wan was safe for the moment though the cost was steep. Communication over large distances was dangerous at best. Qui-Gon was weary, already remembering how it felt to be on the edge of death, so close to the warmth and serenity of the Force. Sinking to the floor, Qui-Gon closed his eyes and fell unconscious. 

In his chambers, Yoda’s eyes opened, and using the Force to aid his movements, he raced to Qui-Gon’s chambers. The diminutive master slid the door aside with a wave of his hand and knelt by the fallen Jedi. Relief washed over him as he found a pulse, thready and weak, but a sign of life. Quickly, he retrieved his comlink and summoned a healer, shaking his head. “Foolish this was. Taught you better, I have. Now, both of you lost may be.” 

Qui-Gon was transported to the infirmary where a battery of tests were run and he was hooked up to monitors that tracked every heartbeat and breath. For four days, the Jedi healers had meditated, attempted to scan him for injury or disease, and tried to remove any toxins. When those attempts failed to wake him, they had attempted to enter his mind. 

* * *

  
Yoda sat in the council chamber in the early morning hours glancing out the window at the bustle of coruscant’s traffic. Only the deep voice of Mace Windu roused him from his reverie. 

“The rescue team found Obi-Wan on Felucia.” The Jedi Master slumped into a chair wearily. 

“Wonderful news this is.”Yoda breathed a sigh of relief, brow furrowing when he saw Mace’s frown. “Concerned you are. Something wrong there is?” 

“Obi-Wan is still unconscious. The medical team is doing everything they can, but he may not survive the journey.” Mace shook his head. 

“Unconscious Qui-Gon is too. No answers the healers have. Perhaps separated the master and apprentice too soon we have.” 

“Once a Padawan becomes a Jedi knight, they must move on. That has been the way of the Jedi for millennia. Allowing Jedi knights to stay with Masters leads to attachments." Mace steepled his fingers, closed his eyes for a moment. 

"Perhaps an exception could be made if truly unique the bond was." Yoda broached the subject cautiously, hesitant to believe what the Force had revealed to him during his meditations. 

"Are you suggesting that Obi-Wan Kenobi and Qui-Gon Jinn share one of these bonds?" For a moment something like wonder lit Mace Windu's dark brown eyes before he mastered his emotions. 

"A dyad in the Force they may be. A bond not seen for two-hundred years." Yoda pushed himself up using his walking stick. "Incredible things they could do together if nurtured the bond is, but die they will if they are kept apart." 

"We must meditate on this until Obi-Wan arrives. The council will decide what to do." 

* * *

  
Yoda and Mace Windu stood in the infirmary as the healers waited to receive Obi-Wan. They hurried to lift him onto a cot and hook him up to monitors and oxygen, the chief healer rattling off a litany of commands. 

"Heart rate and blood pressure are dropping. Increasing fluid bolus and pushing dobutamine and syncortin. Blood pressure is stabilizing." After a moment, the healer stepped away with a deep sigh, a few strands of grey hair slipping out of her cap.

"His wound is infected and he's dehydrated, but his body should be fighting his injuries. We'll continue to remove toxins and keep him in a healing trance, but there’s nothing else we can do except trust in the Force." 

In another wing, alarms sounded as Qui-Gon Jinn's heart stopped. Healers rushed to his side. Yoda clasped his chest, only able to remain standing by propping up most of his weight on his staff. Mace looked at him, outwardly stoic, though he had obviously felt the disturbance. 

"Dying Qui-Gon is. If he dies, lost they both will be." Yoda's eyes implored Mace. 

The Jedi Master closed his eyes then summoned the healer. "Bring Qui-Gon here immediately." 

"Master Windu, he cannot be moved," the healer replied in shock. 

"It’s his only chance." 

Healers raced around the corner, keeping Qui-Gon breathing and his heart beating as they pushed the hovering stretcher to its top speed. Yoda used the force to lift Qui-Gon from the stretcher and lay him on the bed next to Obi-Wan’s. For a few long moments, nothing happened, then, the heart monitor started beeping steadily. 

The chief healer took Qui-Gon’s pulse and looked back at the monitor, stunned. "Heart rate and rhythm are normalizing." 

Within moments, Obi-Wan’s vitals improved as well and he began to stir. 

"Working it is. A true dyad they are." 

Neither Yoda or Mace Windu objected when Qui-Gon woke up and the men reached across their beds to join hands, drawing strength from each other. 

* * *

Outside, Anakin waited, ready to pounce on both of them, the moment he was allowed to visit. It was all he could do to remain calm in front of Master Yoda. 

"Are Master Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan alright?" 

"They are both doing well. Patience, young Padawan. You may visit them now, but only for a few minutes. They need their rest." Yoda chuckled warmly and nodded toward the infirmary doors. 

Qui-Gon was curled against Obi-Wan’s side, their hands still intertwined when Anakin ran in and flopped on the edge of the bed. 

"Anakin! You look like a proper Jedi now." Obi-Wan grinned and sat up, the wound finally healed with Qui-Gon’s help. 

"How are your classes coming along?" Qui-Gon asked. 

"Navigation is easy. Jedi History is boring." Anakin sighed. 

"Never underestimate the importance of history. Knowing about the past is how we avoid repeating the same mistakes as our ancestors." Qui-Gon managed to impart great wisdom with a gentle tone, somehow avoiding being overly pedantic. 

"Something’s different," Anakin said, perhaps sensing their deepening bond. 

"Obi-Wan and I….Yoda thinks we may be a dyad in the Force. It means we're stronger together. We share a deep bond, very rare and very special. " Qui-Gon smiled down at Obi-Wan. 

"I knew that. You two are pretty obvious," Anakin replied, causing both men to laugh.   
After a moment, the boy replied. "Are you still going to be my master, Qui-Gon?" 

"Not exactly." Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. "Obi-Wan and I will supervise your training together." 

"No way! I get two masters?" Anakin had to be reminded by one of the healers not to jump on the bed. 

Obi-Wan felt oddly lonely when his mind was quiet and Qui-Gon slept, yet he took great pleasure in watching him sleep, in sensing his breathing and heartbeat and allowing his own to match.

They had learned how to save each other from nightmares, to walk in each other's dreams. Obi-Wan shifted on the mattress causing Qui-Gon to wake and coil a bit tighter around him. 

Obi-Wan caressed his cheek, the echo of the touch and the feeling of joy it brought Qui-Gon washing over him. Qui-Gon’s large hand carded through his hair which was growing out now that he was a knight. Qui-Gon knew just how to comfort him. His eyelids fluttered closed, the pleasant feeling causing Qui-Gon to gasp as he felt Obi-Wan’s response as if it were his own. They laughed softly, expressions of wonder in their eyes as fingertips traced cheeks or rubbed shoulders, not yet brave enough to dare a kiss. 

Together, their Force powers allowed them enhanced telekinesis and healing, and in combat, they were nearly unstoppable. It was amazing and sometimes unnerving for Qui-Gon to share Obi-Wan’s heart rate and breath, to feel every flex of muscle, to know what attack he would use before he took the first step towards an enemy. 

They hardly spoke to each other when alone in their quarters, preferring instead to use telepathic communication. It did have its advantages, especially when they needed to use discretion around their young Padawan. 

Over time, the love between them grew, and they shared that first tentative press of lips, Qui-Gon’s beard tickling Obi-Wan’s chin, causing them both to laugh and try again. The second attempt was more a success, their lips meeting, filling them both with a pleasant tingling warmth. 

Obi-Wan had some rather embarrassing notions about how wonderful Qui-Gon’s hands felt massaging his sore muscles.  
They shared each other's pain as well as pleasure. Each stomachache, headache, or injury was felt by both of them, but now, they helped each other heal. 

Together, they could also help other injured Jedi. Where most lone healers would risk death from depleting their life force trying to treat grave injuries, the two of them could bring all except the most critically injured patients back from the brink of death. 

The temple’s ancient Sullustan gardener, Ma’s Etok, was quite fond of the way the two of them practiced on his plants, leading to robust vegetables and the most beautiful flowers even in winter. 

The war still raged, although the Jedi council had decided to grant Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan a respite to develop their bond and begin Anakin’s training. For many months, the bonded pair lived in peace and tranquility, their union blessed by the Force. 

  


  
  



End file.
